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With only four commutes to Atlanta to go, a Rooms To Go truck got the best of me today.

If you know my driving history, it may be tough to believe I have maintained a relatively courteous and calm commute style – avoiding tailing others (when possible), allowing others (who properly use their blinkers) to merge in front of me and, unbelievably, not losing my temper at every jerkface driver I encounter. I actually adopted the reaction of smile and wave, but the shame-on-you mom head shake is another option that I enjoy and use frequently. (Also, giving a thumbs up while mouthing the words “You got real far, didn’t you?” as I pull beside someone at a red light who cut off a line of cars a few seconds earlier. For my added pleasure, I’ll throw in a hand clap of rub-it-in for them.)

But today, just two days before I break up with multiple bumper-to-bumper lanes of traff*ck, a Rooms To Go truck squeezed itself nearly on top of my Maxx to get in my, also not-moving, lane.

Well, my fierce middle finger couldn’t be controlled. It fired – and fired and fired. The truck’s driver saw it fire as I evasively merged in the other not-moving lane.

The driver must have thought he didn’t deserve such an ugly reaction so he began to honk at me. He kept pulling up beside my passenger side window and honking.

I never looked over. I did fire another middle digit at him – and a head shake. (Had to throw that one in.)

That’s when the next response happened. I sobbed. Uncontrollably. I sobbed for a good two miles which translates to 10 minutes for Atlanta traffic.

I was a mess but then I felt so much better after the tears stopped. In fact, I wanted to catch up to the driver and give him the signature, “I’m sorry” wave, complete with the “whoopsies” facial expression. (Didn’t happen.)

I guess I just needed the release. So, thanks for that Rooms To Go truck driver. However, I hope I don’t see you during my last three commutes.